Waltz the Abyss
by primal scream
Summary: [ONE-SHOT] In exchange for her heart, Hermione Granger sacrifices her soul to be with Draco Malfoy.


An pathetic attempt at a stand-alone fic whilst sneaking in a little kink and listening to (shock) _Drowning_ by the Backstreet Boys. Listen to it if you have it. I have a mentality with associating writing with songs ...  
  
This is also a side-story to one of my other stories, but I refuse to say what story it's in regards to You'll have to figure that out for yourself, won't you?  
  
** Note:** This is the edited version. I left out all that lovemaking sap to please FFnet. Such poor quality these days ... even if they _do _say they work on it. Absolutely no more freedom of speech/writing. Tsk tsk.  
  
  
  
  


**_Waltz the Abyss  
_**_I'll always love you, Hermione Granger.**  
  
  
  
  
**_

It was a sultry, autumn night with glittering stars on black velvet. A drizzle of rain fell on the land, despite the warmth - whether it was tears of joy or tears of sadness, Mother Nature had yet to find out. The silver-blue core of the sky was shapely crescent, its magnificent pale glow reflecting in the deep blue pond beneath it like a rippling mirror of sorts - distorted and at the same time magical. Starflowers and periwinkles blanketed with dewdrops swayed with the balmy zephyr that accompanied the dark evening. Night owls soared through the sky, clear of clouds, their wings outstretched as they sliced through the wind with graceful precision.  
  
Hogwarts was illuminated with brilliant lights, the voices and clatter of shoes clearly distinct from the outside. It was the celebration of the century, the last time any of the seventh-years would experience such trials and tribulations together, the last time the younger students would converse excitedly with students never to be forgotten, the last time the graduating seventh-years would dance underneath bewitched ceilings and the supervision of their superiors.  
  
Dressed in elegant dresses and suits, youths and maidens took each other's hand and swayed to the music that echoed in the Great Hall.  
  
Harry Potter - The Boy Who Lived, a hero, a friend, a son - was admired as he entered the Great Hall. Some clapped, some rejoiced, and some scowled. The rest were forgotten as he smiled, modestly, at everyone. His sleek, black locks were now tousled gently here and there, his usual unruly appearance left for another day. Tall and fit, soft-skinned and tender, he made his way through a huddle of female students and dancing partners to the one who was smiling back at him.  
  
Her fair-skin was glowing, her chocolate tendrils pinned up with a personal, silver clip, stray strands framing her face in sweet waves. She stood out in the crowd, dressed in a vanilla-white dress, straps criss-crossing across her back in an intricate design, and stopped short of her knees. It hugged her body sweetly, tending to her body like fragile glass. From girl to young woman, the years had been kind to Hermione Granger.  
  
Harry held out a hand to her and she placed her palm on his, his hand enclosing her smaller one and taking her to the dance floor. As if on cue, other males took their partners to the centre as well. Hands to hips, arms around neck - it was almost like a modest lovemaking, gentle and kind. The music slowed to a soft ballad and then, everyone was caught in the moment, staring into their friend or lover's eyes and enjoying every minute of movement, savoring it.  
  
Hermione stared up into emerald essences, as they twinkled in happiness and a sort of stray sadness. And for once in her life, there was nothing she could do or say to mend a broken heart. Almost suddenly, the song ended and time stopped for them, alone in their silent world as others continued to dance, no longer aware of the two best friends with embracing souls, forever attached but never together. Then, he pulled away, stopping short when she was at arm's length. He intertwined his hands with hers and smiled. He pulled her close and brought his lips to her forehead.  
  
I'll always love you, Hermione Granger. He whispered.  
  
Something snapped in her with the way he said it, the longing in his voice, the sadness etched deeply into his skin. She let go of his hands and slid her hands over her shoulders to pull him in a deep hug, shutting her eyes tightly. From the very beginning, she knew they would always be together. She just had no idea the ending was as tragic as it was. Unrequited loves and such.  
  
And I you, Harry Potter. And I you.  
  
  
  
  
She left him to converse with other friends as she pulled away from the Great Hall. Not nearly as tired as she thought she was, she still decided to head back to her tower to gather her things for the next morning. She was reluctant to leave and she almost cried. Her fondest memories were in Hogwarts and leaving the school would mean leaving them behind. Never one to dwell on things for two long, she walked up the long stairway, but not before passing an open window.  
  
He was there on the open greens, sitting down with his elbows leaning on his bent knees, and his head dipped low. The light rain from the sky soaked through his dark button-down shirt, the material clinging tight to his sinewy arms and tall, broad figure. His pale, golden hair was in disarray, a few strands clinging to his brow.  
  
Hermione looked from her tower to the window and decided that packing could wait.  
  
  
  
  
She was afraid to speak, afraid that this golden silence would break, no matter if she yelled or whispered. He hadn't raised his head at all; perhaps he never heard her. Instead, she opted to toss words away, superfluous as they now were, and walked up to his still form and bent down on her knees. In one, fluid motion she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight. He suddenly went rigid and brought his head up, staring at her with an unreadable expression, his intense chrome eyes burning into her own amber-tinted orbs. All pretenses forgotten, her breath caught when he pulled her to him by the small of her back and planted a deep kiss on her lips.  
  
They stayed like that for eternity, two lost children in the rain of humid skies, alone yet fulfilled.  
  
Pressed against him, her hands found their way to his chest, taking a firm hold on the saturated fabric as the kiss grew intense, his hands finding their way into her silky hair, removing the familiar clip, her hair cascading over her shoulders, a curtain of chocolate, grasping her closer. His tongue traced her mouth, savoring the taste of lilacs and vanilla from her lustrous lips. They finally prodded for entrance and she allowed him, feeling him search her mouth with gentle licks and nips of her mouth.  
  
They pulled away, breaths deep and shallow, as they searched each other's eyes, hands playing at every which way.  
  
Without warning, she leaned into him for another kiss and he surrendered to her touches. Then, the familiar glow and sparks of crimson and silver enveloped them. She needn't have asked what he had done. They were no longer in the open field of Hogwarts but in another spiritual phantasm of sorts, parallel to was once reality.  
  
Somehow along the way, she was able to rid him of his shirt, leaving him in his pair of black pants that was still wet as ever. Her soft skin brushed against his smooth chest, fingers crawling up to his collarbone and sliding over his shoulders where she got a better hold of him. Their lips still hadn't left each other as the need to kiss each other senseless was intense and heated. Somehow along the way, he managed to flip her over and now he was in dominant control, hands searching frantically for the knot of her dress. Untied, he slipped it off her form, revealing fair skin, firm breasts, a slender waist, and long legs. He smiled faintly and then leaned in for another breathtaking kiss.  
  
Foreplay was for another time; now, it was the sweet bond of two people. So quickly, clothes were discarded and it was all skin on skin, wet and vulnerable, a sensual dance for two. There was the dull pain and then heightened pleasure. He moved against her, full and gentle strokes, a groan escaping his lips as he pushed into her, desperately, expecting release.  
  
He buried his face in her neck, his tongue teasing the skin underneath her ear and suckling gently as he moved with precision and rhythm, a rhythm she happily followed.  
  
Then, it was over.  
  
So quick. Too quick. But entirely wonderful. No doubt that their eyes spoke love. They were too sure that everything before them were simple obstacles that now ceased to exist. All of her was now his, and him her. They were bound together by invisible forces and it didn't take the measure of soul or heart to determine their relationship.  
  
Instead, they just were.  
  
And on the parallel of their phantasm, the skies ceased its tears and the once fallen stars never looked so ethereal.  
  
  
  


. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  
  
// end waltz, 13 - o9 - o3  
  
  


Hm. I hope that was PG-13 ish. If not, fifteen. I've seen worse movies and they were rated PG-14. No, really. Anyway, since I ended up being happy with its outcome, I decided that the non-edited version be discarded so is now lying in my trash bin. I'm happy enough. And if you're wondering what exactly that was and why everyone was a bit off character-wise, you won't understand it unless you read the main story, which is quite obvious as of now, isn't it?  
  
Oh yes, my philosophy on the association of songs and stories. I've only tested it on a couple of people, but I learned that what the author listens to while he or she is writing tends to influence others as well. If the reader reads while listening to the same song, it tends to enhance the emotional quality of the story. But then again, this is just me and a couple others, I think.


End file.
